


Meet Me at the End of the Aisle

by ellacj



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: 3x08, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2445953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellacj/pseuds/ellacj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every little girl has a fantasy wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Me at the End of the Aisle

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the scene at the end of 3x08 "Cuts Like a Knife" when Jane and Maura discuss their wedding fantasies. It's also the first Rizzles piece I've ever written, so hopefully it turned out all right!!

Maura lays down on the mattress beside Jane, scooting herself close enough so that their arms and hips brush ever so slightly. “You must have had a wedding fantasy when you were little. Every little girl has one!”

Jane sighs. “Okay, it wasn’t really a fantasy… I had this dumb idea that I would say my vows at Fenway over home plate… in a Red Sox jersey.”

There’s a pause, before both of them burst out laughing at the exact same moment in that way that only best friends can. “It’s not dumb,” Maura giggles. “It’s not exactly elegant, but at least it’s colorful.”

“We would have the reception over the pitcher’s mound, we’d serve foot-long hot dogs and frozen lemonade, and the guests would throw peanuts at us instead of rice.”

“Can I come?” Maura asks quietly, turning her head to face Jane.

“Maybe.” Jane twists her whole body so that she’s facing Maura, wearing that shit-eating grin that Maura finds herself falling more and more in love with every day.

Maura stares at the ceiling. She refuses to turn her head; she knows if she does she’ll find herself captivated by Jane’s eyes and won’t be able to speak. “Okay.”

“I’m kidding, Maura. Of course I want you to come.” Jane reaches out, sliding her hand around Maura’s and entwining their fingers. “I mean, I expect you to stand up on the pitcher’s mound with me.”

Slowly, Maura faces Jane, and in seeing the earnest in those wide, brown eyes, her breath catches in her throat. “As your maid of honor?”

She must be imagining the almost imperceptible shake of Jane’s head; she really can’t mean what Maura thinks she means. But then her mouth is opening and she’s speaking a single word that sends Maura’s heart into a frenzy. “No.”

Maura’s unsure of how it happens – she’s not even sure who leaned forward first – but the next thing she knows, Jane’s lips are on hers and she tastes like Pinot Noir and the strawberry chapstick she insists she doesn’t wear. It’s soft and it’s sweet and everything Maura imagined it would be and she can’t believe it’s finally happening; happening on a mattress in the middle of Jane’s living room.

They break apart much too soon, but Maura decides she likes the way Jane’s eyelids flutter a few times before she opens her eyes and how her lips remain parted long after the kiss ends. “Hey,” she says, running a hand sheepishly through dark curls.

Maura grins. “Hi.”

They’re both quiet for a long time; neither of them really know what to say, and Maura’s not sure that kiss wasn’t a mistake. “A Red Sox jersey?” she says finally, and Jane’s smile, as always, reassures her that everything is just fine.

“Okay, you’re in _my_ fantasy, you cannot tell me what to wear.”

Maura laughs, refocusing her gaze on the ceiling even as she feels Jane staring at her. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

“Yes, I’m sure your Charmin gown with the emperor waist and 900 foot train will match perfectly.”

“Silk charmeuse, empire waist, twenty foot train,” Maura corrects her with a teasing smile.

“You’re not gonna fight me for long white gowns and Santorini and a volcano?”

Turning her head to face Jane, Maura’s smile widens and she reaches out to touch Jane’s face. Suddenly, in light of their kiss and everything they’ve talked about, everything becomes all too real. Her voice is quiet even to her own ears when she speaks. “Jane, if I’m ever lucky enough to marry you, I’d do it in scrubs at the scene of a murder if you asked me to.”

“Yeah?” Jane reaches up and covers Maura’s hand with her own, giving it a small squeeze. “I think that would make me the lucky one.” They lay there like that for a long time, before Jane clears her throat and scoots away from Maura’s touch. “But that’s way out in the future – the hypothetical future. Can we just – for right now – just-” she breaks off, and Maura doubts that Jane even knows what she’s trying to say.

“Yes,” she says anyway. She rests a hand on Jane’s cheek, pleasantly surprised when she isn’t pushed away. “Let’s just focus on the now.” She leans forward, but stops when she’s just inches away from Jane’s lips. “Can I kiss you again?” she breathes.

Jane’s nod is almost imperceptible, but the way she closes the distance isn’t. “What do we tell everyone at the station?” she murmurs against Maura’s lips.

Maura grins, gently nipping at Jane’s bottom lip. “Frankie, Frost, and Korsak had a pool going. I overheard them talking about it last week. We tell them Frankie won.”

“Wait, my little brother thinks I’m gay for you?”

“Well, obviously he was right.”

Jane smiles softly, leaning in to gently peck Maura’s lips. “Yeah, I guess he was.”


End file.
